


Five Times John disliked being a father and One Time he was happy

by thewallflower07



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Don't Like Don't Read, John is a Bit Not Good, John is a Mess, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Not really Parent!lock, POV John Watson, Post-Season/Series 04 AU, Sherlock (TV) Season/Series 04 Fix-it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:48:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23095858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewallflower07/pseuds/thewallflower07
Summary: Five Times John Watson struggled with being a parent, with his responsibilities and various other connected problems, and one time he actually woke up happy with the love of his life.The not-so wonderful John Watson in Season 4 will be redeemed eventually.*This is not Parent!lock friendly.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 12
Kudos: 36





	Five Times John disliked being a father and One Time he was happy

**Author's Note:**

> I really dislike how Season 4 and also various fanfictions handle the baby and Sherlock and John being basically working parents, so writing this felt a bit like therapy to me. If you do not like this or do not agree with me, do not read this.

**First Time**

It is around seven o‘clock in the evening when the call arrives that both of the male inhabitants of 221 Baker Street dreamed off. John‘s head lifts like a cat sniffling the fresh air of spring when he first hears Sherlock’s iPhone ring and then the barely contained excited chatter of the Consulting Detective.

  
“We will be there in 30 minutes.“ Sherlock says and hangs up. “John, they found a fresh body in Notting Hill, dressed up as a vampire. It’s Christmas!“ Sherlock exclaims, lifts Rosie up who had been sitting on the sofa and dances with her around the living room. The small child squeals with delight.

  
“More like Halloween.“ John comments, chuckling at the adorable display. It is still surprising to him how well Rosie and Sherlock have hit it off. “I will bring her to Mrs Hudson downstairs for the night, since I suppose this will take a while.“

  
“It will possibly take ages!“ Sherlock says hopeful, and John can’t help but agree. The criminal class in London seemed to have taken a vacation, and he is bored to death. After a few days of doing nothing, his legs ache because of the lack of running and his fingers itch to hold a gun again.

  
While Sherlock gets everything together and calls for a cab to bring them to the crime scene, John gathers everything Rosie will need for one night or maybe more at Mrs. Hudson’s. She is already wearing her pajama, so John only gets her tooth brush, her yellow towel, her bee toy, her favourite blanket, her breakfast food… With a toddler, every time leaving the house feels like moving to a foreign country. He finally has everything together and settles the babbling child on his child while he navigates the stairs on their way downstairs to 221a.  
Mrs. Hudson opens the door, and John can smell a hint of her herbal soothers. Dancing with the stars is on the telly in the background, and a glass of white wine is placed on the glass table, still full.

  
“John!“ Mrs. Hudson exclaims surprised, taking in the sight in front of her.

  
“Sorry to interrupt your evening, but Sherlock just got a call from Greg about a new body, and we really have to go now.“ John tries to automatically hand the squirming child into the arms of his landlady, as he has done a dozen times before, but this time, the elderly woman steps back.

  
“Do you know when you will be back?“ She asks, furrowing her brow.

  
“Not sure yet, it depends on how eager the killer is to be caught, right?“ John laughs and tries to hand the child over again, but Mrs. Hudson still refuses to move. She crosses her thin arms instead.

  
“John.“ She says slowly: “Do you know how old I am?“

  
“Is this a trick question?“

  
“I will turn eighty next year, John. I think I deserved a bit of peace and quiet in my old days, especially on a Friday evening.“

  
John is confused: “What do you mean, you said you would always be willing to take care of Rosie when we required it.“  
  


Mrs. Hudson throws her hands in the air: “Of course I would, I love our little girl. However, when I made my promise, I did not expect you to strain my generosity so much!“

  
John huffs angrily and adjusts his grip on his squirming daughter: “What do you want me to do, then?“

  
“Just tell me at least a few hours before you decide to knock on my door. Now, excuse me, I have to go back to my glass wine.“ She winks at the giggling Rosie, then closes the door right into John’s face, who is left gaping on her doorstep.  
“But… the vampire costume.“ He whispers strangely to himself.

  
“John!“ Sherlock calls, running past them to the door. “Are you coming?“

  
“Looks like I’m not. Mrs. Hudson refused to take Rosie in for the night.“ John says, sounding absolutely miserable.

  
“Oh…“ Sherlock shoulders sink, he bites his lip, looking as disappointed as John feels right now. “I will call Lestrade and tell him we will come to his office tomorrow and look at the crime scene photos.“

  
“You are much more effective at the fresh crime scene.“ John reminds him. “I will just have to stay home.“

  
“Are you sure?“ Sherlock asks, already searching for his black leather gloves. John knows he is eager to leave.

  
“Sure, I will bring Rosie to bed and maybe watch some crap telly.“ John says, trying to sound cheerful. He is not sure if he succeeds, the thought of Sherlock being out there in the middle of the night, chasing after shadows, unaccompanied, terrifies and angers him at the same time. “Please text me, okay?“

  
“I will.“ Sherlock promises, and he is out of the door, sprinting through the door to the waiting cab, and John is left alone, trying to resist the urge to kick against the stairs.

* * *

  
**Second Time**

  
The kinder gardener is waiting for him with a sour expression as John sprints through the door.

  
“I’m so sorry.“ He gasps out. “I got stuck in a traffic jam.“ Actually, observing Sherlock working in the laboratory at St. Barts made him forget to watch the clock entirely, which is why he finds himself twenty minutes late to pick up his daughter from day care.

  
“How was your day, darling?“ He asks Rosie and presses a short kiss to the top of her head. He starts to wrestle her into her winter jacket.

  
“Doctor Watson, I would like to have word please.“ The kinder gardener says.

  
“Sure.“ John agrees, and tells Rosie to stay in the hallway, while he and the kinder gardener move a few feet away.

  
“This is the fourth time this month you picked Rosie up late.“ She says, and John is reminded of all the times his elementary teachers admonished him for chewing gum during class.

  
“I know, and I really am sorry.“ John apologizes again, hoping the kinder gardener will notice the sincere regret in his voice. It is not like he forgot that to pick up his daughter, he just lost track of the time a bit. Shit happens.

  
“Fourth time this month, and it is only the fifteenth. Not to say what happened in the two months before that. My colleagues and I are forced to stay longer at work whenever a parent arrives late, which impacts our private life.“ The kinder gardener says, apparently not willing to let John off the hook.

  
“Again, I’m sorry, and I promise to be more punctual in the future.“ John says.

  
The kinder gardener signs: “Our team has decided yesterday to end your contract this month. Doctor Watson, you will need to look for a new day care for Rosie.“

  
John was already on his way back to the still waiting Rosie when he hears the news. He turns around, breathing furiously: “So you are just letting her go, just like that, without warning?“

  
“Doctor Watson, we send you two letters in the last three weeks. Our patience has run thin. Have a safe drive home.“ The kinder gardener leaves without a word, and John is abandoned in the hallway. Thankfully Rosie did not seem to understand anything, and she just continues to babble nonsense in his ear on their way to the bus station. She does not notice John’s silent fuming, but everyone else in the bus walks a wide bow around them.

* * *

  
**Third Time**

  
“John, Mom just wrote to me. She texted you a few videos of Rosie, and says you will really enjoy watching them.“ Sherlock brandishes his black iPhone into John’s face, but John waves the phone away.

  
“In a minute, I just need to go through a few more files to check. I really think this is it…“ John mumbles, scrolling through the long pages.

  
They have been at Edinburgh for five days, and while John loves Scotland, he cannot wait to sleep in his own bed again, although it is nice to share close quarters with Sherlock again, like the good old times. Unfortunately, 221b Baker Street is simply too small for the three of them, especially as Rosie will grow older. They just have to make the best out of their separated living situation.

  
“John, she just sent another video and at least fifty pictures of Rosie rolling around on the carpet.“

  
“AHA, found it!“ John stabs and practically stabs the display. “We need to go back to the library immediately.“ The two men gather their jacket and scarves and hurry away, brimming with excitement.

  
The videos of Rosie remain unwatched.

* * *

  
**Fourth Time**

  
“Hi Molls.“ John says, holding his phone between his ear and his shoulder. Rosie is sitting in the car between him and Sherlock. She is on her way to Molly for the weekend, freeing Sherlock and John to catch an arsonist in Surrey. That is at least how John envisions it.

  
“John, what’s up?“ Molly answers cheerfully. John can hear her movements through the phone.

  
“Listen Molly, I know this is rather spontaneous, but can you babysit Rosie for the weekend? We have received a call for help from a receptionist in Surrey, who is saying their hotel is going to be the next burning in a series of arson.“

  
About ten seconds of silence answer him. Sherlock is looking at him expectantly.

  
“This is rather spontaneous.“ She finally says.

  
“You could go to the zoo, Rosie loves the zoo.“ John suggests. Rosie next to him throws her hands in the air when she hears the word zoo. Molly appears not to have heard him.

  
“John, you know how much I love fulfilling my duties as a godmother, but this evening I’m going on a date, tomorrow I will go to the cinema with my friends and on Sunday I’m back at the lab.“ Molly says.

  
Since when do you have such an active private life, John thinks silently and nearly misses the last part of Molly’s explanation: “It is not my task to pick up the pieces of your life, John.“

  
“You could take Rosie with you.“ John says quietly, knowing how stupid his response sounds.

  
“I do need some time for myself, John, and I need to do my job to pay for stuff.“ She says, her voice sounding muffled through the speaker. She is probably dressing up for her date.

  
“We could pay you!“ John shouts, but Molly has already hang up.  
  


“No time?“ Sherlock asks. John shakes his head, groaning frustrated. “What’s up with everyone these days? It’s as if suddenly nobody wants to help someone in need anymore.“

  
“We could take Rosie with us. The website says the hotel offers childcare during the day.“

  
John thinks about it while the driver smuggles their cab through the dense traffic. He is aware how stupid the idea sounds, taking Rosie with them on an arson case, how dangerous it could be, but missing another case and instead sitting at home and worrying sounds even more terrible. Heck, they are two capable and extremely-skilled adults. Rosie will be fine.

  
“Yes, let’s take her with us.“ John agrees, and Sherlock leans forward to tell the driver.

* * *

**Fifth Time**

Turns out, it is decidedly not fine. Well, John is fine and Rosie is fine and the hotel is still standing, but the arsonist, in a fit of despair, threw his axe at Sherlock which cut his arm. The three are now at the hospital, waiting for Sherlock to sleep the anesthesia off he required to hold still for the necessary stitches.

  
John sighs in exhaustion and tries to find a more comfortable position on the hospital chair. He has been awake for about twenty hours, and he feels the effect deeply. The wanted arsonist actually betrayed himself in the end when he tried to pass of as Sherlock and pick up Rosie from the small nursery at the hotel. Luckily, the kinder gardener caught the bad lie immediately and managed to stop him until Sherlock himself and John arrived. They haunted the arsonist all over the parking space of the hotel, which is where he threw the axe at Sherlock. John shudders at the memory and rubs his hands over his tired face. Just the thought of what may have happened if the kinder gardener didn’t act so quickly and if the arsonist had a better aim… He shudders again.

  
A soft knocking wakes him up from his terrifying imaginations. Lestrade is waiting there, holding two steaming cups of coffee.

  
“Wanna step out for a bit?“ The Detective Inspector suggests, pointing at the door. John agrees that he is in desperate need of some fresh air, and walks together with Greg to a free bank in the small hospital garden. It will still take a bit of time until Sherlock wakes up, so John accepts the coffee gratefully.

  
“Where is Rosie?“ He asks, slurping a bit from the coffee.

  
“With Donovan. She didn’t look too happy about it.“ Greg answers. John snorts.

  
“Speaking of which… I was wondering what your long-term plans are.“

  
John spits out his coffee: “With Donovan?“

Greg throws him an annoyed look: “No, with your daughter of course.“  
  


John shrugs: “I don’t really have any. We will still solve crimes, I will blog about it and Sherlock forgets his pants. We will look after Rosie and everything will stay the same. Why are you asking?“

  
Greg shakes his head: “Everything will not stay the same, John. Think about what could have happened today, Rosie nearly got kidnapped. Think about what could literally happen to you any day. Baker Street already got blown up twice, you both end up in hospital regularly and you once got thrown into a bonfire! How do you plan to keep your child safe in the future?“

  
John bristles annoyed: “Many parents have dangerous jobs and do just fine. You are a Detective Inspector at Scotland Yard, and you raised a son without any complication.“

  
“Defining yours and Sherlock’s job as dangerous does not really cut it. I don’t have a crazy archenemy, I never got stuffed into a Semtex vest, I was never on a dangerous two-years mission being haunted around the globe! It is not the bloody same.“

  
John kicks a stone angrily: “Are you implying I don’t care enough about my daughter? Because I would tell you to tread very carefully now.“

  
“No, I’m not saying that. I just think that you need to work on your priorities, and you need to do it now. Sherlock told me about you being kicked out of your day care, and you can’t just assume all the women in your life will take care of your responsibilities. Remember, it will only get more difficult as she grows older. Think of all the birthday parties, parent-teacher conferences, holidays… The life you and Sherlock live right now is not compatible with that.“ Greg reminds him and takes a deep breath, apparently surprised at his own boldness.

  
“You think we either have to give up cases and move somewhere no one knows us, or continue risking Rosie’s life.“ John whispers. The terrible realization is slowly sinking in. Dear god, what should he do?

  
Greg does not answer directly, instead, he clasps John’s knee reassuringly. “I’m sure you two will find the best solution. I have to drive back to London, but tell Sherlock he owns me for this, okay?“

  
John ignores him, the spiral of depressing thoughts is too powerful. He thinks about getting up from this bank, collecting Rosie and walking away from Sherlock, forever, moving to Bristol or Glasgow or wherever it is safe for the Watson’s. No matter how much he needs the detective in his life, he cannot take Sherlock away from his London and his beloved work. He cannot ask for any more sacrifices, and he cannot burden Sherlock with his own choices anymore.

  
Maybe this is how it has to be, John realizes. For all of their sake. He gets up and crunches the now empty coffee cup in his hand, trying to delay the inevitable.

  
Saying goodbye to Sherlock Holmes only ever gets harder.

* * *

  
**... and another First Time**

  
With an agonized scream, John bolts open in his bed, furiously wiping away tears. He blinks through the moisture in his eyes and looks through the room.

  
Wait… This is not his bedroom at Mary’s house, and not some cheap flat in Bristol either. This is…

“John, are you alright?“ Sherlock asks befuddled. The detective is half-buried under the covers, and his bed hair is adorable. John is suddenly overwhelmed with so much happiness that he rolls over and buries his head in Sherlock’s chest. Large hands rub John’s shaking shoulders.

  
“Christ, I had a terrible nightmare.“ John groans into Sherlock’s gray sweatshirt.

  
“Do you want to talk about it?“ Sherlock inquires soothingly.

  
“I don’t really remember much of it, but I still lived at Mary’s old house with our daughter, and I constantly missed going with you on cases because I kept trying and subsequently failing to throw her into everyone’s arms. I acted like a horrible father, I can’t even recognize myself.“ John shudders in disgust at himself.

  
“I’m sure you would be a wonderful father.“ Sherlock starts saying carefully, but John swiftly interrupts him: „But here is the thing: I don’t want to be a father. I thought for years I should be a father, married to a nice woman and living somewhere in the suburbs, living an ordinary and peaceful life. But I don’t actually want to be that!“

  
“It is good then that Elizabeth is living with her biological father, David and his girlfriend, in Scotland, and that you are here with me.“

  
“I dreamed that I was planning to leave you, to keep Rosie - I called her Rosie in my dream - safe. Move somewhere boring and start anew. The mere idea alone tears me apart.“

  
“John, as if I would not have followed you to the end of the world. Really, your dreams are ridiculous. Of course, we would have found a better solution.“

  
“Thank god we don’t have too.“ John says, feeling sufficiently recovered and ready to engage in more pleasant activities. He moves away from Sherlock’s warm embrace and settles instead between Sherlock’s spread legs.

  
“Enough talk about toddlers. I do remember that I promised you something special last evening…“ John says and winks at the blushing Sherlock.

  
“It is barely five a.m, we will wake Mrs. Hudson.“ Sherlock says warningly while simultaneously rolling his hips with anticipation.

  
“We have to be quiet then.“ John says and drags the blanket over them.

It ended up being a very satisfying morning.

  
Somewhere, many miles away, a young girl with blond hair is enjoying her breakfast with her Dad in their kitchen. She is safe and happy.

  
Everyone is exactly where they are supposed to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me your thoughts in the comments. I hope you enjoyed reading this small one-shot!


End file.
